Give
by theblacklake
Summary: Harry's world starts spinning again in the shower. Post Final Battle Harry is a shell; utterly reclusive and devoid of all emotion. Ginny decides to play saviour to the hero of the Wizarding World, because you can only go so long before snapping when the man you love can't look you in the face. Smut in the second chapter!
1. Chapter 1

'It's been a month Harry.'

There was a pause. Harry could hear in the hills behind them a crisp morning breeze make the tops of the trees rustle lazily.

'You still haven't said a word to me.'

Harry didn't reply. A bird sung out in long, high tones from mountain tops.

'You can't even look at me.'

Ginny was right. He couldn't look at her. Right now his eyes were trained on her muddy wellington boots ands the little tear on the waterproof fabric near her right inner sole.

 _Somethings got to give._

Ginny had cornered him this rainy Tuesday morning as he'd come out of the broom shed. The Burrow was nearly empty. At ten in the morning some were off at work; Arthur and Percy at the Ministry, George was continuing his stay in Angelina's south London basement, Molly he knew had gone to buy stone fruits for a new pie recipe tonight, and Harry had thought that Ginny had left with Hermione and Ron just minutes ago to visit Luna. It appears he was wrong.

And so she stood before him now.

The last time he'd really looked at her had been at the end of the war, early the next morning as they stood amidst the ruins of the castle. He'd stared at her like a life line while the aftermath of that final battle supervened. Her hair had been ridiculously long. The messy ponytail she wore had been torn at and hacked, there was rubble in her hair; white powder on her the ridge of her scalp. Her face was smeared with ash. She looked too thin. Ginny had always been small. She was lithe; toned from quidditch, with a tight stomach and narrow hips, lean legs and a long neck. But then, her collarbones were gaunt, her legs spindly and the bags under her eyes as dark as the hollows of her cheekbones. Her eyes has been dead. Ginny's eyes to Harry had always been like downing a shot of firewhisky; her energy and vibrance seeping into him whenever he was with her. Though then her eyes were blank, a mirror to her passed brother. There was no spark in them, just the damp of tears that she wouldn't let fall.

Ginny looked different now.

Her eyes were alight again, somewhat. Her hair has been cut, though it was still long, hanging at the bottom of her shoulder blades bluntly. She'd started to gain weight. Harry dared not glance down at her chest which had swelled up again. She wore only a tight white singlet now. Nothing underneath. Harry was certain of this because the firmness of her tits and her hard pink nipples through the thin fabric were hard to tear his eyes from.

Harry couldn't do this. He couldn't be so close to Ginny. So close to any one person. It was far to intimate for someone attempting to strip away any form of human interaction or emotion. He could feel himself choking up and attempted to step around her short frame, though she blocked him swiftly. And now he was one step closer to her. She smelt like flowers.

She stared into his face, waiting for him to do something. To acknowledge her. To talk to her.

Harry didn't. He stared determinedly over her shoulder.

Ginny gave a sigh, and then reached out and grabbed his hand, turning on her heel and marching him back into the house.

Harry was in far too much shock at perhaps the first physical contact he'd had in a month, to do much but follow, revelling in the warmth and security her small hand in his filled him with.

Ginny led Harry up the stairs, to the bathroom. He tried not to look at her arse in front of him as he walked, pale denim stretched over her cheeks. Though he doubted Ginny would mind even if she caught him staring; perverted teenage behaviour would be welcome after his reclusive stunt; involving avoiding all human interactions and glaring in a desperate attempt to keep tears from overflowing.

'You need to shower. You're not getting into my bed covered in mud.'

Harry felt something stir at the mention of Ginny's bed; the first genuine interest had had in nearly anything, in too long.

Then he glanced down at himself. He didn't know how old the clothes he wore were. Harry couldn't remembered the last time he'd showered. He knew he ought to be embarrassed by the poor state he was in right now; probably smelling something unpleasant, but he couldn't bring himself to feel much shame at his poor hygiene.

When Harry made no real move to do anything except stare blankly into the bathroom, Ginny again gave direction.

'Take your shirt off. Arms up.' Ginny peeled the thin grey top over his head. 'Thank Lord it's June, otherwise you'd be with a cold, wearing nothing even slightly warm in our dull English weather. And your pants.' Ginny knelt before Harry, unbuckled his slacks and pulled them down his pale thighs. Harry couldn't help the slight rousing of his inner teenage boy libido at Ginny kneeling before him.

'I think you're too far gone to even care if I completely stripped you, aren't you?' It was a question Harry realised. Did he want to be completely naked in front of Ginny. Baring his scarred chest and pale thighs to her was bearable. But his cock? Harry stepped back, and Ginny understood.

'Well I guess we'd better be evenly undressed then - I've not showered this morning yet either.'

Harry watched as Ginny unzipped her jeans and peeled them off her legs. pulled the tight singlet off her stomach and away from her breasts, until she was in only a pair of black knickers. He stared. Ginny gave a slight grin. Finally, some normalcy returning to Harry. Of course it would be the notion of sex that'd do it.

He stared at her breasts, and she felt her nipples pucker at the attention. Ginny let Harry gaze at her for a minute more, feeling his eyes burning trails down her ribs and over her hips, running along her thighs and up her neck.

'Come on in, darling,' Ginny called over her shoulder, as she stepped away from Harry and into the shower, turning the water on. She smiled when she heard Harry shuffle his pants off his feet completely and hold the glass open to step into he shower behind her.

The shower was small. Though the shower head had been charmed to let warm water rain from above, not just the single head, so there was no issue with one of the pair missing out on warm water.

Ginny could sense Harry at her back, could feel his eyes on her waist and her bum, and she fought not to push back into him as she once would've done with this boy. _Later_.

She turned and gave Harry a smile. The look in his eyes was like a thank you.

'C'mon then,' grabbing a bar of soap Ginny stepped forward and lathered her hands, before sliding them up Harry's shoulders and to the tight muscles of his neck. She began to knead the tension out, and Harry thought he' never felt something so good as her fingers rolling his knots out like this. Her hands slid down over his arms, cleaning sweat and grime and dried mud off his skin. Then she slipped her hands around his waist, and rolled her fingers up the sides of his torso, trying not to enjoy the feel of his warm, muscled body under her hands for the first time in far too long. She cleaned his chest, his back, up around his neck and quickly washed at his legs too.

Then she stepped back and quickly rinsed herself with soap as well. Unlike Harry, Ginny was maintaining daily showers so it took a minuscule amount of time compared to her pampering of him, to clean herself.

'Kneel down,' Ginny said, after rinsing the soap from her body. 'I'm washing your hair.'

Harry knelt.

She lathered his hair and rinsed, then lathered and rinsed again for good measure. Then it was time to condition his thick hair, lavishly rolling her fingers over his scalp with delightful pressure.

'Stand and rinse yourself off, theres a toothbrush on the sink. Brush your teeth.'

Then Ginny was gone, wrapped in a white towel and disappearing down the stairs to her bedroom.

Harry was spitting and rinsing, a thin towel wrapped around his waist, when Ginny remerged into the bathroom looking like an angel. She wore, Harry gave the slightest of smiles, only a twitch of his lips really, his old quidditch jersey.

Ginny didn't address her clothing choice, but gave him a smile, hung up her wet towel and placed in front of Harry a pile clean clothes. 'Mum's washed all your stuff. There's some boxers, a shirt and some trackies.' Once you're dressed come down to the kitchen, I'll need a hand carrying the tea up to my room.'

Harry was grateful that Ginny had returned, he was half scared she'd leave him, scrubbed clean in the bathroom. He was mildly embarrassed that he had absolutely no clue what to do with himself; how to function normally. As for Ginny needing a hand to carry up tea to her room - this was Ginny helping him forward. She could levitate it easily, but he liked that she 'needed' him. That he has some small purpose to her.

He found Ron's deodorant under the sink, dressed quickly and slid his glassed back on - cleaning the smudges off them with his towel. Ruffling his hair - it really did smell quite good now - Harry then walked down the stairs to find Ginny, a large white pot of english breakfast tea steaming on the bench, two mismatched tea cups with silver teaspoons inside, a jar of raw sugar and a jug of milk. Harry's eyes flickered to the tea tray behind Molly's stack of cook books, though he didn't say anything.

'I'll carry up the tea and the cups, do you mind bringing the milk and sugar? Thanks.'

Ginny began walking up the stairs. Harry collected his allocated items and followed her up, trying to figure out if she had pants on, or only a pair of knickers on under his jersey, though it was too long to tell, even from his viewpoint.

Ginny's room looked different.

Gone were the quidditch and band posters and the bright walls, the colourful duvet and messy corners. The walls were white, and so was the roof, and the hardwood floors were dark. The room was still small, one big window sitting opposite Ginny bed which took up far too much the room, even pushed into the corner. Her duvet was white, and the mass of pillows at the head of her bed were white too. Enchanted fairy lights were floating in loops from her ceiling.

Harry felt like Ginny's new room; much emptier and whiter, was somewhat symbolic of Ginny now, no longer as busy and colourful and innocent. The new room felt more mature, more clinical.

'Do you want a chair, or will you sit in bed with me?' Ginny said. This might've been the first question she'd asked him all day. Harry's voice cracked at absence of use for so long when he replied. 'Bed. Your beds fine.'

She smiled at him then. A big smile that stretched her freckled cheeks up and made her eyes sparkle.

Harry crawled onto the bed behind Ginny, sinking into the pillows, and was hit by an immediate wave of exhaustion. His eyes dropped closed. Gods, how long had it been since he'd felt so comfortable. This bed was like a cloud, and it smelt like Ginny, and he felt clean. Merlin, he'd underestimated the power of a shower and a clean shirt. Harry was helpless to his dropping eyes.

Ginny turned to ask Harry if he'd like milk in his tea (she knew he did - Harry liked his tea nearly white with two sugars), but she was trying to coax more conversation out of him, when she realised he'd fallen asleep. She smiled, the poor boy had years melt off his face when his eyes closed. All of the trauma and guilt seemed to melt away. She slipped off the bed and pulled up a few blankets, draping them over him softly. Her eyes were welling with happy tears. Gods, she'd missed Harry.

Once she was sure Harry was deeply asleep, Ginny sat back on the bed and made herself a cup of tea (black with one sugar). Crosslegged and sipping her tea, Ginny made the promise to herself that from this day forward she'd drag Harry back to life. He wouldn't have to face another day alone.

He was still so handsome to her. His dark, messy hair and long lashes, his broad shoulders and lean muscles, and Lord his eyes. Though closed right now, she could still imagine so perfectly the lurid green of his irises.

She remembered their first kiss, and the time he read muggle novels to her when she was sick. She remembered the late night swims at the black lake under moonlight, and when he'd bring back a treacle tart from the kitchens for them to share late on a Sunday night. She remembered the touching in his bed, his hands on her so tightly as he ground into her, and when they used to go flying early in the morning as the sun came up, racing each other around the field.

Ginny had had three cups of tea, and Harry was still asleep, curled towards her, when she lay herself down next to him. She rolled onto her side so the were face to face. Harry it seemed, had subconsciously noticed her presence, for his eyes lazily flickered open for half a second, before curling an arm around Ginny and puling her into his chest easily, He rolled onto his back, puling Ginny around with him so she lay on his side, his hand on the bottom of her spine.

Ginny felt her eyes watering and her heart racing as she lay in Harry's arms, feeling the calm beat of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest, his big hand on her back. She dragged the blanket Harry was curled under over her too, and closed her eyes.

Harry couldn't ever remember being so comfortable, he truly debated the chances that this was all a dream. Voices were rousing him from his sleep, though he kept his eyes closed - if this was dream, and Ginny wrapped around him was not real, he'd rather make it last a little longer.

Harry heard a sigh. 'Well, I was worried he'd disappeared off into the forest again,' that was Molly's resigned voice. He could envision the worry lines on her face as she stared at him.

Then Hermione's voice. 'Ginny's talked to me about Harry a bit, she still loves him. Definitely.'

Harry felt his heart race at those words.

Ron groaned then. 'Bloody hell, I'd hoped these two were over and done with by now. Not that I'm not happy to see Harry wearing a new t-shirt mind you,' he added.

'They deserve each other,' Molly said. 'They make each other so happy.'

'Ron, can't you see? Look at Harry. He's been a recluse for the last month. Ginny fixes him.' It was Hermione doing what she loved best - explaining the obvious to Ron.

'Yeah heaps cute,' Ron grumbled. 'But I love 'em both, and I'll be able to stand them two in bed together if it means I get Harry back.'

Harry could envision Hermione's smile as she patted Ron on the back. He'd have to ask Ron what was happening there, him and Hermione were more than a good match, though he'd been paying scarce attention to the two of them since the final battle.

The door clicked shut and Harry gave a deep breath of relief. He'd come to realise it was indeed not a dream, but rather this girl was really here, curled up on him. He opened his eyes to look down at Ginny on his chest, and made a noise of surprise when he saw Ginny staring back at him, a small bubble of laugher emerging at his shocked expression.

'Afternoon love,' Ginny said, 'You hear that, Ron said we can root!'

Harry laughed. It was weird, laughing genuinely for so long after a month of silence.

He slid his arms tightly around Ginny's waist and dragged her up higher onto his chest, squeezing her hard.

'Don't ever let me go again, Harry,' Ginny said, voice muffled in his neck.

Harry didn't reply for a minute, He couldn't find the words to tell her how much she meant to him.

'I love you.' Harry knew it was true.

Ginny was absolutely perfect and Harry knew he was being lucky to have her here with him right now, because he'd been a rubbish sort of boyfriend at times over the last few years. And as he looked at her now, he realised that he'd be a happy man to wake up to her every morning, sprawled on his chest; the sunrise on her freckled back and her ear on his heartbeat.

authors note; this is the first part of my fic; I've decided this time to post it in two parts - rather than one as i have in my last two fics. the next chapter will be heady with smut ! I'd love a review or two guys; even though my last two fics have reviewed amazing reads the reviews are lacking which is slightly disheartening. lastly - I'd adore a request or a prompt; I'll write literally anything for you x


	2. Chapter 2

A second later Ginny was kissing him. Sliding her hips back so their groins were aligned, and curving her back up so she could kiss him deeply.

It had been so long since he'd had Ginny in his hands, and her lips on his. She tasted like black tea and she felt warm and limber on him.

Harry rolled his hips up into her and Ginny's moan into his mouth while they kissed was like a spoonful of sugar.

She sat up and Harry stared at her. The afternoon sun filtered into the room, casting a soft light behind Ginny, making her hair light up and her silhouette glow.

'Hot summer afternoon its turned out to be,' Ginny said conversationally, loving the look Harry cast upon her, and she stripped off his jersey, leaving her in only the tiniest white knickers. Harry's cock throbbed, more than half hard now under her.

Ginny dropped back down to him and they began kissing again, while Harry ran his hands over Ginny's warm body - her soft skin; up and down her sides and in circles over the underneath of her breasts.

'Ginny-' Harry said, pulling back from the kisses, '-we don't have to do this, now.'

Ginny gave Harry a look, and he decided that one warning was one too many and pulled her face down for another kiss, not missing the tiny smile on her face as he did so. He could hear his voice in his head - _don't doubt Harry Potter that if I didn't want to be nearly nude in this bed right now with you then I wouldn't be here, I'm far too much an independent and sexually confident woman to be doing something I don't want to. and I do want you._

 _H_ arry couldn't help but remember him and Ginny in the past - so explosive together - passion and attraction dancing like flames between them.

It had taken Harry a few months to gain sexual confidence that was on par with Ginny's godliness in bed. She was red headed and confident, had a filthy mouth and liked it a bit messy - a bit raw, she loved when he fought back - when they battled for control, and adored it most of all when he won, and she'd melt into his strength and dominance.

Finding a safe place for sex was risky. Ron in the bed beside Harry in the Gryffindor boys dorms had its plenty risks, so they'd gotten inventive. Once Ron was asleep it was nearly impossible to rouse him, so late night visits from Ginny under the cloak - strategically given to Ginny that day, a few strong privacy and silencing charms and they were off, waking early the next morning to sneak down into the prefects bathroom together before Ron or the others woke. The quidditch showers were useful - _Weasley stay back after training would you - we've got technique to discuss._

 _H_ arry had adored licking Ginny out. Her wetness all over his face and the musky taste on his tongue never failed to have him hard. Ginny was of the same thought towards Harry - she dripped at the thought of Harry's cock in her mouth while he looked down on her with those green eyes. She slightly preferred kneeling in front of him to kneeling at the base of the bed - only because it was far easier for Harry to cum all over her face and into her open mouth and poking out tongue when she was before him on the floor.

One night when Ginny was pissed and Harry was happily caring for her they feel into bed - the blowjob had been sloppy and enthusiastic and Harry had always adored how much Ginny got off on pleasuring him. He knew he was getting close when Ginny pulled off and asked, innocent as ever - 'Harry can you cum on my face? Please.'

He'd cum then and there at those words and the salacious and desperate look on her face. Cum shot up to hit her on the bottom lip and on the underside of her neck, dripping down to her tits.

One time he remembers being last in the showers after quidditch, and he'd thought Ginny had gone up to the castle already. When he heard the door slide open though he realised she's been devious, and, as always with Ginny, he was suddenly in a suddenly playful and ridiculous happy mood. He lay down on the benches in the middle of the lockers, towel draped over him artistically, and feigned snoring.

He'd felt rather then heard Ginny stop, 'oh no,' she whispered, 'my darling Harry, all asleep. I wonder what would wake him?' Ginny walked closer and closer, until she stood at his feet at the end of the bench. He continued to snore lightly, fighting his twitching lips. For a second he was scared shed tickle his feet, but then she stepped over him, one leg on either side of the low bench, so she was somewhat straddling him. It then occurred to Harry that he didn't know what Ginny was wearing. The image of her over him, naked, flooded him and his rhythmic snoring stuttered for a second.

'Such a shame my handsome boyfriend's sleeping really, I'm feeling rather in a mood tonight, and I'd been craving his cock - _uhhh_ \- hard and hot in me, all afternoon. I'm so wet for him. What an absolute waste.'

There were sounds of soft, slippery touching, and Harry felt that Ginny might be touching herself. The sounds stopped and she moved further up the bench, so her pussy was right over his face. He could sense her there. The noise re-began - Ginny was touching herself right above him.

'Oh, Harry,' she sighed, and he could imagine her drawing tight circles over her clit. He continued to snore unconvincingly, eyes twitching because he wanted to see this so, _so_ badly. Then there was a wet finger on his lips - the finger Ginny had been dipping into her folds.

He'd opened his eyes and wrapped his arms around her hips and dragged her dripping cunt down onto his face, and it was pure bliss. She's orgasmed on his face twice. The sounds she made - little gasps and groans, the taste of her drowning him, and the view of her bouncing breasts when he looked up - had him achingly hard by the time she climbed down his body, legs shaking, and sat on him, so wet. Heaven, Ginny was.

Sometimes if he was in a brooding mood they'd fuck in doggy, Ginny on her elbows, her tight arse in the air while he pounded into her, hands bracing her by the hips so tightly that his knuckles went white.

Sometimes they'd do missionary, though Harry would throw Ginny's legs over his shoulders and Gods it made her somehow even tighter, and she loved it, full of stuttered moans because this angle had Harry hitting that spot inside her ruthlessly.

A few times they'd masturbated mutually, Ginny with her legs up and wet cunt bared for Harry while her fingers worked precisely over herself. Harry with his hand on his cock, while they spoke dirty things to each other and fought to not come first.

One time Ginny had ended up laying, hand between her legs, while Harry knelt over her stomach, wanking, while Ginny dared him to cum all over her tits and in her mouth and on her face. 'Come on Harry. I want you to cum on me,' she gasped, working herself quickly. 'I want you to cum in my mouth, _please_ ,' her face was screwed up - she was close too. 'Harry please, cover me with your cum. I need it.' She'd begged and begged and he's obliged, cumming all over her face with what had been a massive load.

Harry dragged himself back to now - in Ginny's bed this afternoon, far more than a year on since they'd last been together.

She was staring at him.

'What were you thinking about?'

'Us, how we used to be.' Harry didn't have to say in bed. They both knew. _This_ was so different. The softness of their kisses and their touch now. So much more reverent.

'I love you.' Ginny said.

She then un-mounted Harry and lay beside him, grabbing his furthest arm and dragging him around and on top of her so his heavy weight had her pinned under him, her legs splayed wantonly as he ground into her.

Then her underwear were gone and Harry stripped too, and they both gave deep sighs when Harry's head made contact with her warm, wet lips. He slid in slowly, only the tip at first - he still remembered how to tease her.

Ginny was alive and absolutely quivering under Harry as he slowly slid the tip of his head in and out, driving himself crazy but loving more how he could feel Ginny clenching under him to dry and draw him back inside her.

She was so sensitive, and before long Harry was sheathing himself completely in Ginny, slowly pumping in and out, watching Ginny quiver under him and feeling her nails on his back.

'More,' Ginny finally begged, no louder than a whisper.

Harry increased his speed so he was pounding into her warmth, and then ordered, 'Touch yourself'. Ginny obliged, her hand sliding down to rub at her clit furiously while Harry fucked her, and suddenly it was so much more intense and she was on the brink of her orgasm.

Harry slowed down, knowing that the sensation of his head sliding in and out of her needy pussy would be enough to undo her, and also knowing that he needed to calm his pace if he wanted to last through Ginny's orgasm. He was right, a minute later and Ginny's vagina was convulsing around his slow thrusts, and her back was arching, feet pointed mouth open in a sonnet of gasps and hitched moans.

The sight and feel of Ginny's orgasm had Harry cumming in her, while her vagina fluttered around him as her orgasm cooled off.

Ginny pulled Harry down onto her, and their hearts beat erratically against one another's chests.

'I love you.' They both said it at the same time.

Then they both laughed, then kissed, and then they lived a long life of love together.


End file.
